I juxtapose fragments. I can’t really do it in snippets, I need larger wholes, otherwise I’d get punched in the face again, I fear. I can’t stand in the way of a natural, flowing, and fluent phrase, nor of musicality. Which is perhaps the greatest challenge for so-called new music in general. Not to give in to a phrase that leads into worn-out, safe, and gratifying places, but to seek out new ones—while at the same time not producing incomprehensible and dull nonsense. Not to surrender control to natural instincts, but not to silence them completely either, because they are the most precious signposts. To look at the compass, but constantly question the course. Not to trust oneself, but to remain oneself. This is what kind of a game it is.

By the way, the music of Podhale in itself contains astonishing counterpoints—especially in singing. It certainly isn’t afraid of dissonances. It’s afraid of nothing. It laughs in the devil’s face and dances over the abyss.

Laughter and dance are not my natural reflexes. But I admire them.